


Did You Just Call Me Satan?

by SadieHerondale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Awesome Laura Hale, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Crack, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mentioned Kate Argent, Mentioned Scott McCall, Mentioned Vernon Boyd, Pre-Slash, That's it that's the plot, just why, kind of, mentioned Erica Reyes - Freeform, not really - Freeform, why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5400185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieHerondale/pseuds/SadieHerondale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, Derek," Stiles leans on the bar and rakes his eyes over Derek in a way that's obnoxious enough not to be serious, "What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?"</p><p>Whatever Derek expected, that was not it by a long shot. He lets out a surprised laugh. "Really? That's the worst pick up line in the history of pick up lines."</p><p>Stiles just gives him a look like <em>Challenge Accepted.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Did You Just Call Me Satan?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in two hours because I really wanted bartender Stiles. Totally unedited because I'm lazy. I should be writing an essay because EXAMS, but hey, who cares about stuff like that, right? *cries in the corner* I'm gonna fail.

"Dammit, Laura," Derek mutters, crossing his arms. "You know I'm--"

"In desperate need of a good lay?" she bats her eyes innocently and turns off the engine. They're in front of a club that Derek didn't even know existed and he's very much not amused. "I do know that."

He growls at her. "I'm perfectly fine on my own, thanks."

Laura looks out the window. "Do you smell that? Smells like bullshit. And it's my birthday, so you have to do whatever I tell you to do without bitching at me for it."

"Pretty sure that's not how it works."

"Shh..." She puts a finger on his lips. "Whatever I say. As the generous, amazing, perfect, kind,--"

"Are you done?"

"-- _loving_ sister that I am, I'm telling you to go out there and get some ass." She snaps her fingers at him. "Maybe it'll get the stick outta yours. Now unbuckle and go do as you're told, or else."

There's a glint in Laura's eyes, some spark of I know something you don't know that always makes Derek grit his teeth and do whatever she wants because it's probably less painful than the alternative. It's obnoxious, he thinks as he gets out of the car. He even let her dress him: a white Henley and black jeans that are way the fuck too tight, and his leather jacket because no Laura, that's not an option replace his usual style for the night. To add insult to injury, she gelled his hair. Sure he looks hot, but that's not the fucking point, okay? He's a history major in college, a true bred nerd; a club with some gaudy neon sign and no windows is the last place he ever thought he'd set foot in. Derek drags his feet for as long as humanly possible, but Laura eventually manages to get him through the doors.

Inside is _chaos_.

Some preprogrammed light show is going on, splashing bright color on an other wise dark room. The only other light is coming from the bar, which glows with a dim amber light. The dance floor is packed, so much so that it's hard to discern one sweaty pair from another. People are dancing like they're trying to have sex in their clothes, and the music is crappy and deafening. It's absolutely awful.

Laura disappears after a kiss on the cheek and a (relatively) quiet, "If I see you again before tomorrow morning, you'll regret it. Love you!"

Fuck, there go his plans for hiding in a corner all night until she's ready to leave. Maybe he'll just hang out and go find a place to crash later on. Isaac might take pity on him. His phone vibrates in the pocket of his way the fuck too tight jeans. He wiggles it out (with a lot of effort) and groans when he sees a text from Laura.

**& dont even THINK bout goin to Isaacs or E  & B's. Their under strict orders not 2 allow you to get outta this on pain of my rath**

Kill him now. Derek lets a breath out and shoves the phone in his jacket pocket, heading to the bar. He's not going to make it through tonight sober, and a few shots are just what the doctor ordered. Then he'll bother trying to get out of here.

He's still glaring at his phone when he sits on one of the cracked stools at the bar. Someone laughs and he looks up. It's the bartender, holding an empty glass and a towel. He's still laughing.

"S--Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry in the slightest. His voice is deeper than Derek expects from a kid that looks like he's fresh out of high school. He's gotta be over 21, by law, but he wonders if this guy pulled a few strings. "You just looked so betrayed."

Derek raises an eyebrow despite himself. "Isn't your job to offer booze and listen to why I feel betrayed?"

"Yeah, for people who look like they just lost their jobs or got a divorce or something. You looked personally offended. There's a difference. Did you _want_ a drink or were you here to oggle the hotness that is me? I don't really care either way but I have to ask." The other man shrugs and Derek notices how lean he is; he's probably an athlete or a health nut, maybe both. What? Derek enjoys people watching, he knows the signs.

He sighs, defeated. He wants something strong, but something tells him he's going to be roped into human interaction. "Just get me a beer."

The bartender smirks, probably knowing his general thought process. He pops the top off a bottle and hands it to Derek with a wink.

Oh god, he's flirting. Derek flounders for a second before taking a sip, which he thinks is socially acceptable, right? When a hot bartender with freckles and a gorgeous grin hands you a drink and winks, it's normal to drink some of it, right? He's so fucked. Or, you know, not, as the case may be.

Luckily, the man doesn't seem to expect him to continue the conversation. "I'm Stiles. Not my real name but even I can't pronounce that monstrosity so I'm just Stiles. It's weird, I know--"

"Derek."

Stiles gapes at him. "Huh?"

"Derek. It's my name." He's not even trying to reciprocate Stiles' energy because no. Just no.

"So, Derek," Stiles leans on the bar and rakes his eyes over Derek in a way that's obnoxious enough not to be serious, "What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

Whatever Derek expected, that was not it by a long shot. He lets out a surprised laugh. "Really? That's the worst pick up line in the history of pick up lines."

Stiles just gives him a look like _Challenge Accepted._ "Are you from Tennessee?"

"Oh god, no. Please no." Derek raises his hands in defense. "No."

"Because you're the only ten I see," Stiles finishes, looking satisfied when Derek covers his face in mortification. Stiles is giving him literally every reason to want to leave but it's the last thing on his mind because _what the fuck is up with this guy?_

"By the way, are you legal?" Stiles asks him seriously. "No, you're too hot to be legal."

Derek groans. Stiles hears him. "What's wrong? Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?"

For once, Derek has a counter. "Did you just call me Satan?"

Stiles is floored for an instant before bursting into surprised laughter. He can't seem to stop even when his eyes start tearing up. "That's-- That's so-- Best thing I've ever-- My god, dude!"

"So you did call me Satan," Derek says with a smirk. He likes Stiles, he thinks. He's easy to be around and has the worst sense of humor in history and yeah Derek has a crush. Which is weird, because he hasn't even tried dating since Kate. Hasn't really cared about that kind of thing. Until Stiles, at least. His phone buzzes.

**if u rn't fucking Stiles' brains out yet u're not doin what i told u 2**

Derek scowls. Of course. Of fucking course. Laura set this up. Stiles was probably blackmailed into being funny and charming and generally everything Derek could ever want because of Laura and her obsession with Derek's lack of a sex life. Because of course.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asks, seeing the look on his face. Derek glares at him silently. "Did I do something? Oh shit, did you actually think I called you Satan? It was a joke, dude, I prom--"

"Don't call me dude," Derek snaps. "Just go back to doing whatever you were doing before my sister told you to do... whatever this is."

Stiles has the nerve to look confused. "Your sister?"

"Laura Hale," Derek spits. "About this tall, bitchy, will be dead by tomorrow morning. Ring a bell?"

Stiles furrows his brow in a way that Derek really shouldn't find adorable. "Who? I mean, that's not a lot to go on... Oh! Is she friends with Erica Reyes?"

Derek nods stiffly, not quite sure of what's going on.

"I barely know her, du-- Derek. I went to high school with Erica, but I've never met most of her friends. Not my crowd, y'know? I'm a criminology major, I really don't need to know what they get up to." Stiles seems almost nervous, anticipating Derek's response.

Honestly, he isn't sure how to respond. Stiles isn't lying, at least. Derek is sure of that. But Laura had a hand in this. He shoots her a text.

**How much of this did you plan**

**u mean how much do u wanna kill me? ;***

**Laura.**

**...**

**Laura.**

**hes oblivious. dont kill him.**

**All I needed to know. We're talking about this tomorrow, I hope you realize that. Enjoy being 27 while you can.**

**YEAH LIL BRO U TAP THAT**

He doesn't dignify that with a response, just looks up at Stiles, who's handing a shot of something to some girl who's blackout drunk and probably doesn't need anything else. He motions the man over shyly.

"Sorry," he blurts out. "Just-- my sister. She's a nosy little shit and doesn't know how to keep herself out of my business so I just assumed that she'd done some weird blackmailing thing again because it wouldn't be the first time but--"

Stiles reaches over and covers his mouth. "Forgiven. I know what it's like. My brother Scott is the same way. Now. I seem to have lost my number. Can I have yours?"

Derek is floored. And frustrated. Sexually. Bad jokes aside.

"I'm allergic to no and addicted to yes, what's it gonna be, handsome?" Stiles asks with a wink.

"Never say that again and we have a deal," Derek groans good naturedly, sliding his phone across the bar.

Stiles laughs a little and types something. "I texted myself. I get off soon. Just one more question."

Derek makes a show of bracing himself. "Yes?"

"If I followed you home, would you keep me?"

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make my day! :)
> 
> Come find me on tumblr: @look-im-just-trash


End file.
